Carved Regret
by Marcondiuw
Summary: A commander is responsible for the lives it leads. There is no room for skepticism between teammates. But trust is a hard thing to come by these days. And unfortunately, mistrust has a high price. ME3; Set before the events of Priority: Cerberus Headquarters.


A/N: Hey there. First ME story, and a first attempt at Angst, all that after a few months (or I can say a year already?) without writing anything, so bear with me a little, would 'ya? Any feedback is appreciated. This little thing is set before Cronos Station, based on an idea that came to me the last time I played. I actually still haven't reach this part with the Shepard mentioned here, but I digress. Hope you enjoy (or not; angst, and all that).

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**Carved regret**

"They are flanking us to the left! Requesting suppressing fire!" Major Kirrahe shouted as his team struggled to leave, despise the proximity to the outside area.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Ashley's voice echoed in the distance, muffled by gunshots. The geth duck into cover as the bullets missed their intended target.

The last of the salarians escaped as Major Kirrahe ran to the exit and turned, firing at the geth. "Hurry, Gunnery Chief!"

"If I leave now, they'll catch us from behind! I'll finish them off, and rendezvous with you later!" As more geth approached from behind her and to her right, Ashley became trapped.

"Hang in there, Ash! I'm coming to get you." Shepard managed to hold back the despair in her voice as she ran through the passage towards the elevator.

"Negative, commander! You have to secure the bomb! Otherwise, this whole thing will be for nothing!"

"The bomb is armed! You heard the Major, it can't be disarmed now! Go help Ashley, commander!" Kaiden radioed his superior as the counter in the bomb began to tick.

"They'll converge on your location! If they secure the bomb-"

"They won't, Ash! You're in immediate danger, go get her commander!"

"Screw that! I can hold them off. Go back and get Alenko. You know is the right choice, LT!"

Shepard let out an exasperate sigh. Her hands were trembling, the gunshots becoming louder. She couldn't leave Ashley behind, surrounded by enemy troops. At the same time, she couldn't simply abandon the bomb. They surely were aware of their true objective by now. Kaidan was a fine soldier, but she couldn't trust that he, together with a couple of marines, could hold off against Saren if he decided to attack. That's what she said to herself as she spoke.

"Alenko, I'm getting back to secure the bomb… Ash… I'm sorry." Deep down, she knew it wasn't the only reason, and she hated herself for letting her feelings get in the way.

"I'm not."

"Don't die on me now."

Only gunshots answered her, followed by the explosion of a rocket that could be heard without the radio. A muffled scream echoed through the communication, along with heavy breathing. Then, a single shot from a sniper rifle, and everything went dead silent.

Shepard opened her eyes as she jolted upwards from her bed. She felt her whole body soaked in sweat, her breath heavy, as if she almost drowned. She slowly lay down, looking to the passing stars above. A part of her couldn't help but wonder. What if she trusted that Kaidan could hold off against Saren for a little and rushed to save Ashley, who was in immediate danger? Had her feelings didn't interfered, would she be able to consider this option?

"…_Doesn't matter… In the end, there would be two flesh wounds instead of one…_"

She got up, undressing and taking a cold shower. The water washed away the sweat, but she didn't feel any cleaner. Her hands still felt a bloody warm, the result of incompetence and mistrust. She let out a hushed sigh and rested her forehead on the wall, looking towards the water slowly going down the drain. The shower box was cold, entrapping. But still not cold enough to numb her feelings. She wondered if that's how the Normandy's crew felt on the stasis pod.

Half the crew, lost in an instance. As they turned to paste, did they lashed out at her, desperately calling to the one they trusted to be at their side to the end? Did hope turned to anger and gave way to despair as they slowly went down the drain? Did they felt betrayed and abandoned by their savior as their live slowly liquefied? She closed her eyes, turning and resting her back on the wall as she slowly sat on the wet ground, hearing Yeoman Kelly's last, desperate scream.

And what about the rest? Did the other half died cursing for her choice? She couldn't jeopardize the operation by losing another member of her team. She didn't trust a weapon created from Sovereign's remains and she didn't trust a barrier technology that still had issues of maintenance. She didn't fully trust a geth and didn't want to endanger Tali. In the end, Jack, Kasumi and Jacob paid for her mistakes, their blood on her hand as much as the Collectors' and Reapers'. Samara and Grunt soon followed.

She didn't want their deaths to be in vain. And for that end, she destroyed an entire star system, only for her warning once again fall to deaf ears as she was arrested. And the moment the Reapers showed up, they took her out of custody, gave her a pistol and said "There, now save us".

How someone who couldn't be trusted with the life of a small crew became responsible for the life of the whole galaxy? How could they simply dump trillions of lives on her lap and say, "save them", like it was nothing? They denied her warnings until the last second, and then simply hope that she solves the entire problem by herself, all the while giving half-assed excuse that they need to take care of themselves, and only caring to speak when requesting something?

""_We will fight to the last man." Yeah, easy to say that when the responsibility for the fall of all others won't be on your hands…" _All she knew was that she was tired. The cold water did nothing to wash away her exhaustion.

The intercom began to beep, snapping her out of her reverie. Another exasperate sigh left her mouth as she slowly got up. She turned off the shower and dried her scarred body, calmly dressing in her old spacer clothes.

The intercom had long since gone silence, but she knew the message. She pressed the callback button as Cortez answered.

"Commander, the item you requested has arrived. Do you want me to bring to your cabin?"

"Yes, please do. Thank you, Cortez." She turned the intercom off before he could answer. It took most of her strength to stop the sadness in her voice from showing.

Arranging the desk, she had everything she needed close by. Chisels, hammers, pencils, saws, molds, all her small tools were arranged neatly, even the ones she wasn't planning on using. Mostly could be substituted with the omni-tool, but seeing they all exposed brought a mixed nostalgia feeling, soothing her mind. Soon, the bell on the cabin rang, the door opening. The pilot had a sympathetic expression as he handed her the package.

"Here it is, Commander."

"Thank you, Cortez." She grabbed the package he extended to her.

"Shepard, I just want to say, I'm sorry-I mean… I… You don't have to carry everything by yourself. It wasn't your fa-"

"Cortez." Her voice was stern, cutting him abruptly. She let out a sigh, and forced a small smile. "Sorry. I appreciate the feeling, Steve. And thank you." She turned around as the door began to close. "But I like to be left alone for now." The door and her footsteps muffled her voice.

"Ellie…" She could hear the worry on his voice, and a part of her felt relief, while another whispered she didn't deserve relief. There shouldn't be rest for the wicked.

"EDI, turn off all monitoring system from my cabin." She spoke as she put the package on the desk.

"Shepard, you know all the unauthorized cameras were confiscated. I do not have any monitoring device other than the-"

"And you know I know that's bullshit. Now, turn off sound recorder at the closet and at the intercom, as well as the camera on the aquarium and on the model display, or I'll break them myself. And don't forget the one in the box."

"But according to you biometric readings, y-"

"I assure you that I can tell how I'm feeling better than your sensor, EDI, thank you." Her voice was dry. "Now, turn off the monitoring."

"…Very well, Shepard. I will still monitor the levels of oxygen, but I shall turn off the audio and visual recording. All I ask is… Don't do anything to endanger yourself."

She contracted the muscles on her face, forming an upward line once more. "Don't worry. I do this since I was small, EDI. I know what I am doing."

"And I know you understood what I meant." The mechanical voice echoed on the cabin. "…Logging you out." There was a faint click, as what she believed to be the camera turning off. She then proceeded to turn off the light. Only the glow from her aquarium and the light over her desk were left on.

Just to be safe, she turned on a small jamming program, hoping that EDI would trust and understand her. She chuckled at the hypocrisy. After all this time, she still couldn't find inside herself the ability to trust EDI, or synthetics in general, completely. Perhaps if she could show the same trust Legion showed her, she could've avoided the genocide of the geth.

She approached the package and opened it. The metallic, silver ore was neatly arranged inside. She took it out and examined the quality of the metal. It wasn't very good, but all of the good resources were used on the Crucible. It was a personal favor from Admiral Hackett to be able to have a piece of metal in these desperate times.

As she began to work on it, she remembered the lessons her father taught back in Mindoir. The colony was composed mostly of farmers, and small settlements, barely in size to be called a city. It was also relatively poor. Her father worked as a sculptor to help with the bills after her mother died in an accident. He always tried to teach Shepard right from wrong, but oftentimes she hanged around bad crowns. Nothing too bad, mostly small crimes, such as shoplifting. Small fry, compared to the things other gangs did. Still, Shepard had always been skilled at passing undetected through security, so she had a small reputation.

Until one day, a batarian came to the planet. Mindoir had few of them. This one said upfront he was a criminal running from the Council with stolen goods. He came with a small shuttle, but wanted to hide his ship for a couple of day. He promised to share the goods with Shepard's gang if they deactivated the defenses of a small perimeter outside of the settlements. The batarian was honest from the beginning about being a wanted criminal to the Council, so what else he could hide from them? They were a small colony almost abandoned by the rest of the Alliance. They didn't had anything worth stealing, so the worst it could happen was he was lying about sharing the goods, right?

…Ever since then, Shepard had trouble trusting others.

But now, mistrust was weighing heavily on her shoulders. She wanted to do something about the lives lost, so that they wouldn't be forgotten like the ones in Mindoir. Her request to build a memorial wall was accepted, and she worked a couple of months while in custody. She was assured that it would be put on somewhere easily to spot on the Normandy. She personally engraved all the plate names, using her own old tools. Their names on the metal, their faces on her heart, their wishes and hopes on her mind, their voices on her head. She hoped the ones she wrote while in custody would be all that she would need to engrave. When the war broke, a part of her knew there would be more to carve.

As the war went on, more was engraved. She was tired of engraving. Their names, their faces, their wishes and hopes, their voices. All of that with their blood on her hands. Tired of repeating the same mistakes. Tired of her mistrust. If she trusted Wrex's leadership and told them of the Dalatrass' plan, perhaps Mordin would have time to adjust the cure and come back unharmed. Perhaps she wouldn't need to shoot him to ensure the sabotage go unnoticed. And then, in turn, she wouldn't need to shoot Wrex for finding out. Two more names engraved from her skepticism. Perhaps he would still be alive, too…

"_Screw that! I can hold them off. Go back and get Alenko. You know is the right choice, LT!"_

She let her feeling carve their way in Virmire. If she hadn't, perhaps both of them would be alive. If she wasn't so petty, perhaps she could have given another sliver of chance to him. But seeing the one she trusted most giving his back, she couldn't find in her heart the strength to give a little trust for him once more. Now, the only thing she could do is carve his face in a special place, doing her best to tenderly remember his voice, to recall his small smile. All the while feeling the warn blood _(his blood)_ on her hand, slowly turning cold.

"_Dammit, Kaidan! You stood for the wrong man!"_

"_Better than killing the wrong man…"_

.

"_Ash… I'm sorry."_

"_I'm not."_

Her sacrifice became a torn scar. His death, a fresh wound that she knew that it wouldn't heal.

The plate was neatly formed. Her inside was screaming desperately, her fingers stilled and drenched with cold sweat. There were cuts on her hands and close to her wrists that she didn't know how and when were made, but it was okay. EDI would understand it was only accidents. After all, she trusts her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, grabbing her tool. Another name needed to be engraved, another face needed to be carved, another voice… to be heard.

She was a good friend. She helped whenever she could, and even told the Illusive Man to screw himself when he demanded her to stop Shepard. And still, when it came the time to return the gesture, she couldn't trust her with the resources she needed. With a sad smile, she said she understood. And her deep blue eyes showed she didn't blame her at all. In her dying breath, she trusted her beloved sister to her. The one thing she cared the most. And once again, in those deep blue eyes, belief and trust were stamped.

"_It would've been better if you just had lashed out at me, blamed me, cursed me…"_

The cuts, the shots, the bruises and the physical scars she suffered on her whole career didn't hurt at all. They stopped hurting a long time ago. But her feelings...

A few hours later, Shepard stood in front of the basalt she molded into a memorial. As always, the surface was cold and dark, but the light kept the names lit, like stars on the sky. She slowly crouched, her tired arms and bloody hands struggling to stop themselves from falling apart as another plate was placed on the wall.

"Ellie…" Garrus place a hand on her shoulder, his voice strained. "You did everything you could."

His warn hand felt cold. "_Except I didn't. I could've trusted her, believed in her, as much as she believed in me…_" Her soul began to scream, her guilty feeding on her mind.

"Don't bl-" She jerked the hand out of her shoulder, suddenly getting up. Her green eyes were cold and distant, hiding the grief, the sorrow, the despair and the exhaustion that molded and gave shape to her soul.

"I'll be in the cabin. Tell Jeff to call me only when we reach Cronos Station. If is not important, don't bother me." She walked pass the crew, muffling her own screams and pleas for help, as well as their own offer of support and condolences.

As she reached her cabin, she didn't bother to turn on the lights, or to take off her Alliance uniform. She let herself fall on the bed, overlooking the stars passing by, dreading the moment she would fall asleep. She had never before felt so drained, so worn out. And yet, she didn't dare to close her eyes, to take a small nap. If she did, they would be there, at her side. Calling to her, offering their trust, their loyalty, the things that she couldn't reciprocate. The things that cost them their lives.

As her eyes slowly closed, she hoped, deep down, that perhaps, this time, they would stay closed. Forever. An ominous wind began to whisper.

_Shepard…_


End file.
